


Night Terrors

by ColorInPlatinum



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Trans Male Character, also junkrat is ace, it will always be junkrat, the character is junkrat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-02
Updated: 2016-06-02
Packaged: 2018-07-11 18:52:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7066000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColorInPlatinum/pseuds/ColorInPlatinum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>war is hell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Night Terrors

War is _hell_. It ravages lands, tears families apart, and kills without bias or prejudice. War is _hell_ ; hell for _soldiers_ , _citizens_ , _allies_ , and _enemies_ alike. But war is especially hell for a _**child**_. When the world and the home you know is being ripped apart right before your eyes. When your siblings are killed in front of you. When your arm is blown off by a robot that used to clean the streets. When you're left alone, with nothing but a teddy bear and box of band-aids at your side.

Junkrat doesn't sleep. He'll go days without it, powered by gasoline and nitroglycerin fumes and caffeine, and then he'll collapse for a solid few hours before repeating the process all over again. Work, sleep, repeat. He has his reasons, of course, just as Roadhog has his reasons for never removing his mask. He calls it insomnia, but when someone brings it up, the look in his eyes is fear, and no one would ever know why.

Except Roadhog, of course.

Their relationship had progressed over the years, from a tense and well-funded deal to a terse but much-needed friendship, and eventually into something more unprofessional (but then, what about the two of them was professional to begin with?). Roadhog was there when Junkrat lost his leg, when he was being hunted by bounty hunters, when Junkrat couldn't stand keeping his scars a secret anymore, when his fragile mental state would shatter; Roadhog was there to help pick up the pieces and kiss it better.

It wasn't until a year or so ago that Junkrat became comfortable with the idea of sleeping with Roadhog. Never sexually of course--he was more interested in explosions than dick. But Roadhog had mentioned it several times, mainly for added protection from the deadly cold of the irradiated Outback's nights, but after they left Australia it became a suggestion for added safety. No on could kill Junkrat if Roadhog was right next to him with a gun in his hand of course.

So up until a year ago, Junkrat slept alone, curled in a ball with his prostheses inches away from him. Roadhog noticed during that time, soft mumbles and grunts and groans that were always muffled by whatever they were using as blankets that night, but never called attention to it. It started becoming an issue for him when Junkrat refused to sleep. Ever.

Junkrat would stay on guard for nights on end, with Roadhog drifting in and out of his own rest, somewhere between paranoid and concerned. Sure, he was paid to be a bodyguard, but when someone stops sleeping altogether, that's cause for alarm. But Junkrat never told him why, and after a while he stopped caring.

One night, while shacked up in a hideout in London, however, Junkrat insisted they sleep in the same sleeping bag--he was freezing ( _"I ain't losin' me other limbs, mate!"_ ) and tired of shivering. And that was when it happened.

It started with Junkrat shivering, which seemed odd considering how warm it was in the sleeping bag with their combined heat. Then he was twitching, burying his face into the thin sleeping bag to muffle his words ( _"No, please--I'm sorry, just stop, please--didn't do nothin' wrong--!"_ ) despite their rising volume. It ended with him screaming, begging for someone to stop ( _"Fuck, please, just leave me alone! Please, stop, don't hurt me!"_ ) hurting him, and when Roadhog attempted to wake him, Junkrat wouldn't stop kicking and smacking at him.

Once he'd realized what had happened, Junkrat retreated from Roadhog's side as quickly as he could, stumbling a bit without his false limbs attached. The dim light of the room was enough to show that Junkrat was crying, shaking, scared.

It took an hour to calm him down, and when Roadhog felt Junkrat was eased enough, he sat himself in front of the scrawnier of the two and huffed, a silent 'fess up'.

Junkrat sighed and fidgeted, his good hand wrapped around the base of his right arm's stump, squeezing it nervously.

"I--I'unno, mate this 'appens a lot t'me. Never that bad though, I'll admit." He laughed, but it wasn't that ear-splitting cackle like Roadhog was used to. It almost _hurt_ to hear such a pitiful sound come from Junkrat. "I don't even know why it 'appens. Don't ever seem like _my_ dream, y'know?"

Even with the mask, Junkrat could see the deadpan glare and hear Roadhog's chastising words. "Well--hmp-- **hell** \--!" he stuttered. "We can't all be big bad Mr. Porkers like you, y'know! Sorry if me gettin' dragged away by a bloody _omnic_ with me arm _danglin' off its bones_ ain't on the top o' your list o' priorities! I can't even talk proper 'round you, let alone 'ave a _**nightmare**_ , I guess! Shit, sometimes I wonder if 'avin' you around is even bloody worth it!"

He kept rambling, but Roadhog wasn't listening. Junkrat said that his nightmares didn't feel like his, but the stories lined up with his missing arm. Not to mention that Junkrat was fairly young during the last portion of the Omnic Crisis, and Australia was hit the hardest. Roadhog wondered for a moment if something worse had happened to Junkrat to make him forget, or if this was just him repressing traumatic memories.

"--can't deal with that, then you can just _leave_!" Roadhog tuned in again and sighed upon hearing the threat; it was a fairly common one. "Well?!"

Roadhog didn't have the energy or the will to get mad or say something to Junkrat, so he just sighed. That was usually all Junkrat needed anyway: a silent reminder that his ramblings aren't always as bad as they seem.

Instead of raving some more, Junkrat let his shoulders fall. The bags under his eyes became more prominent and visible tears threatened to pour over again. "I jus' wish I knew what it was about. I might not get--like _that_ if I did."

Roadhog, still wordless, only pulled Junkrat into his lap, ignoring the awkward feeling as the smaller wriggled his way into a more comfortable position.

Junkrat sank into Roadhog's soft gut, sighing quietly as he closed his eyes and allowed himself to fall back asleep. When he finally did, Roadhog was quick to wrap him back up in a blanket, seeing as it was freezing in their small hideout.

He'd ask about Junkrat's past another day. For now, he had another threat to add to his mental list.

_**Night terrors.** _


End file.
